


Turn My Camera On

by wordsliketeeth



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Cameras, Choking, Consensual Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, F/M, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, Humiliation, Pet Names, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Tattoos, Their Exchange Is Preplanned, Vaginal Fingering, Video Format: Streaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27308845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsliketeeth/pseuds/wordsliketeeth
Summary: Haizaki tugs harder on her hair and fits his free hand against the hollow of her throat. He digs his tattooed fingers into the smooth column of her neck and squeezes. “Wrong, baby. You've already made a pretty detrimental mistake here tonight. If you can't be a good girl, your punishment won't be so pleasant. I'll have to hurt you.”
Relationships: Haizaki Shougo/Momoi Satsuki
Kudos: 30





	Turn My Camera On

Momoi didn't need an OnlyFans account to subsist, but she had _the personality, the body, and the charms to make bank_ —those had been the words straight from the mouth of a friend who opened her own account several months previous. Momoi was a bit skeptical at first but when the compliments and the voices of commendation started pouring in like expensive liquor in a cosmopolitan gentlemen's club, well, it was all the encouragement she needed.

The money she was making didn't hurt either.

It starts with her usual introduction, a bright white smile, a wave of her hand, a wink that should be generic but works so perfectly with the fuzzy pastel ears perched atop her long pink hair and the matching collar that circles the elegant framework of her throat. Not to mention, her bubbly disposition. Momoi is cute and she knows it, and that confidence comes with the added benefit of being comfortable in front of the camera.

She parts her lips to segue into a friendly conversation as she pops the top button of a borrowed white button-down through its respected slit when the bedroom door opens. She pretends not to notice and giggles airily as she sweeps her hair over the delicate curve of her shoulder. She gets one more button free before Haizaki's shadow drowns out the light spilling over her back.

“Don't you know how to knock?” Momoi asks, though, it's without the hard venom of annoyance.

Haizaki grabs a fistful of her hair and cranes her head back firmly to growl against the shell of her ear. It's loud enough for Momoi's audience to hear over the wavelengths and the satellites closing the void and the distance between their homes.

“You think you're so fucking cute, don't you—sitting in front of the camera _I_ bought you to tease a bunch of strangers with your pretty face and perfect tits?”

“Shōgo!” Momoi shrieks, reaching up to curl her soft fingers around Haizaki's wrist.

Haizaki tugs harder on her hair and fits his free hand against the hollow of her throat. He digs his tattooed fingers into the smooth column of her neck and squeezes. “Wrong, baby. You've already made a pretty detrimental mistake here tonight. If you can't be a good girl, your punishment won't be so pleasant. I'll have to hurt you.”

Momoi closes her eyes as a weak whimper stretches over the shape of her glossy lips. “I'm sorry, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” Haizaki praises, sweeping his thumb over the twitch of Momoi's pulse point. “Now, this is how things are gonna go. Since you love being such a dirty little slut for the camera, you're going to let me do whatever the fuck I want to you in front of your oversexed audience.”

Momoi gulps against the tightness of Haizaki's grip and nods hurriedly before croaking out, “Yes, Daddy.”

Haizaki wraps the length of Momoi's hair around his wrist and bodily hauls her out of her monogrammed chair. He drags her over to the open space beside their bed and presses two fingers against the soft angle of her jaw. “What do good girls do for their daddies, princess?”

“They do what they're told,” Momoi answers, visibly squirming.

“That's right. Do you want to be good for me, baby?”

Momoi nods emphatically, eyes wide and bright, a starry, overwhelmed look on her face that makes Haizaki's cock stiffen in his jeans.

Haizaki tightens his fist and pulls Momoi closer to plant a firm but chaste kiss on her lips. “Good girl. Get down on your knees.”

Momoi falls to the floor as if she's lost a war with gravity. Haizaki takes a brief moment to kick the chair still warm from Momoi's thong-clad bottom aside, broadening the camera's view. He takes his place in front of the girl on the floor and cards his fingers through her soft hair. He uses his free hand to unbutton his jeans, smirking when he finds Momoi fixed on his every movement.

“Do you want Daddy's cock in your mouth, kitten?” Haizaki reaches out to run the pad of his thumb across Momoi's bottom lip. She looks up at him as she takes the calloused digit into her mouth, sucking the salt and the heat from his skin. Her eyes are watery and veiled with desire, and when she hums in assent, the sound shoots straight to Haizaki's cock.

“Go ahead, babydoll. Take out Daddy's cock like the good little fucktoy you are. I know you're thirsty for it.” Haizaki presses his thumb against the slick edges of her bottom teeth and grins. “You're practically drooling to taste it, aren't you?”

Momoi emits a whine that slips into a slutty moan, bowing her head in acknowledgment. She lifts her hands to the waistband of Haizaki's jeans and tugs them down just enough to free his hardened cock. Haizaki watches the tip of her pink tongue sweep across her lips, fully aware of just how talented she is with her mouth. He groans and wraps a hand around the base of his cock, guiding it toward the pout overtaking the shape of Momoi's lips.

Momoi looks up at him through the thick fall of her lashes and whimpers. “It's so big, Daddy. What if I can't fit all of it in my mouth?”

Haizaki chuckles and the sound reverberates against the quiet backdrop of the room. “Are you trying to play coy, princess? Don't want your followers to know how good you are at sucking Daddy's cock? What have you told them, baby? Do you pretend to be cute and innocent when you're really a fucking slut for me? When you beg me to fill you up with my thick cock and come inside of your pretty pink pussy—Have you ever shown them how wet you get when you're desperate for it?”

“No, Daddy. Of course not,” Momoi lies, shaking her head for added emphasis. “I'm a good girl, Daddy.”

Haizaki runs the head of his cock over Momoi's lips, tracing the soft shape and groaning at the feeling and the friction. “That's right. You are a good girl. So why don't you tell your audience who you belong to?”

Momoi makes a show of biting her bottom lip and runs her hands up the hard muscles lining Haizaki's thighs. She absentmindedly traces the inked shapes that darken his skin before glancing up at him. “I belong to you, Daddy.”

Haizaki frees his hand from Momoi's hair and puts just enough distance between them to smack her across the face. “What have I taught you, baby? Don't be rude. Your behavior reflects my teachings, doesn't it? You look people in the eye when you speak to them. Face the camera.”

Momoi lets a moan of frustration and longing escape her throat before turning to face the camera as told. She looks directly into the glaring beetle-black lens and wets her lips. “I belong to him. My body belongs to him, and only him.”

“That's a good girl.” Haizaki cups Momoi's face and strokes his thumb over the delicate contour of her cheek. “You're mine. My slut, my whore, my little kitten to play with however I want, whenever I want.”

“Yes, Daddy. I'm sorry, Daddy.” Once again, Momoi turns to face him directly and digs her fingers in against his thighs. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

A wolfish grin takes over the shape of Haizaki's mouth, and if Momoi didn't know better, the desire pooling in the low of her belly would take the shape of fear.

“I don't need your permission, baby.” Haizaki presses the head of his cock against Momoi's lips. “Open your mouth.”

Momoi immediately submits, parting her lips wide enough to take a good portion of Haizaki's cock into her mouth. She emits a sound that's somewhere between a moan and a sob of relief. She closes her eyes and waits patiently, her hips shifting ever-so-slightly.

“You'll do whatever I ask of you because you're a greedy little cockslut. You're a fucking whore for Daddy's cock, and you'd do anything for it, wouldn't you, kitten?” Haizaki braces a hand against the back of Momoi's head and moves his hips forward until he can feel her throat strain against the head of his cock. He pulls back, lets her take a single breath, then shoves his way back in.

Momoi relaxes her muscles and closes her eyes as Haizaki fucks into her mouth, beads of precome catching in the back of her throat. This is far from the first time he's used her mouth, and Momoi considers herself a bona fide cock-sucker, but it's not enough to keep her eyes from watering and tears from spilling down her cheeks.

Haizaki tightens his grip on the crown of her head as he fucks into her roughly, relishing in the heat and the slick and the vibrations that purr through his cock when Momoi issues a string of desperate moans. He's getting closer to the edge than he wants to be, so he pulls the pink-haired girl closer and holds her there, forcing her to take every inch of his cock into her mouth. He can feel little gusts of breath against his skin, measured but labored all the same.

After a brief moment, Haizaki drags his cock free of her hot aperture and across her lips. He smears his thumb over a strand of saliva that threatens to spill down her chin and slips it back into her mouth. He admires her features, the flush that's staining her cheeks like blush too dark for her complexion, the glistening wet of tears, and the glossy red of her eyes that tip her into just this side of ruin.

“Get up,” Haizaki orders, his voice firm and clear.

Momoi staggers and buries her hands in Haizaki's shirt to keep herself from toppling over as she pulls herself up and onto shaky knees. “Yes, Daddy?”

Haizaki drags his gaze over her frame and wets his lips. “You're so fucking beautiful,” he purrs, momentarily distracted. Then he blinks and pulls himself back to the present moment, taking her round hips into his large hands, spinning her to confront the camera directly. “Show your dirty fucking fans how beautiful you are, baby.”

Momoi writhes in his grip, giggling and blushing furiously. “But Daddy...I want you to fuck me. I need...”

“Shut the fuck up,” Haizaki commands. “I won't take your eagerness for granted, and I will fuck you, but if you disobey one more time, I won't let you come.” He drags the flat of his hand down her abdomen and tugs up the withered edges of her— _from his side of the closet_ —shirt. “And that's a promise, kitten.”

Momoi nods and begins fiddling with the buttons lining the shirt. She only gets two free when Haizaki tugs her flush against the solidity of his chest and kicks apart her feet. “This is exactly what I mean,” Haizaki says, looking at the camera, then back at Momoi. “I never told you to strip for them. Your sick little brain just jumps straight to sex and attention, doesn't it?”

“But you said!” Momoi starts, distress pitching her voice higher than usual.

“I think you need to start paying better attention,” Haizaki chides, yanking up the hem of the button-down and holding the rumpled material against her warm skin. “But since you're so fucking desperate, I'll skip right to the best part.”

Haizaki wedges a hand between Momoi's soft thighs and tugs aside her panties. “Fuck, I don't even have to be on their side of the show to see how wet you are. This indecent little strip of fabric is soaked. Is that just from having my dick in your mouth, kitten?” Momoi mewls and the sound is enough to make her perceived image slightly believable. “Show them, baby. Show them how pink and wet you are from sucking Daddy's cock. Spread your pretty little cunt open like you do for Daddy's special kisses.”

Momoi shivers and Haizaki can feel every inch of the shivery shift slide down the ladder of her spine. His fingers tense against the cushion of her skin, his nails painting red half-moon indentations onto her creamy complexion. She heeds the command and reaches between her legs, the back of her hand brushing against the hard ridges of Haizaki's knuckles. She puts herself on display and Haizaki can hear the hitch of her breath, can feel her pulse beating wildly against the tips of his fingers.

“That's good, baby. Now take off your panties. I want you on the bed, on your knees.”

“Okay,” Momoi says as she slips the thong down her legs, anticipation snagging on the thorns of nervousness.

Haizaki curls his fingers around her arm and yanks her back as she makes for the direction of the bed. Momoi gasps and Haizaki wraps his free hand around her throat. “Okay, _what_?” he growls.

“Okay, Daddy,” Momoi installs, now trembling.

Haizaki gives her a curt nod and jerks his head toward the bed. “This is what I get for having a piece of art for a fucktoy.”

Momoi bites back a smile and climbs up onto the bed, taking up the position Haizaki appointed. She feels defenseless, wholly exposed, and vulnerable, but the loose touch of fear she feels is enough to kick-start the fire smoldering in the low of her belly. She wiggles her hips and shifts until she can feel the edge of the mattress against the clutch of her toes.

“Take that shirt off down to your wrists, then put your arms behind your back.”

Momoi obeys the order, and as soon as the gentle scratch of material grazes her back, Haizaki is tying the shirt in a makeshift restraint that binds her wrists together. “Good. Now lower your fucking head and keep your pretty ass up where I can see it. Spread your knees a little wider too.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Momoi supplies weakly, submission pumping through conformity like the blood in her veins.

Haizaki hums a sound of approval and drags his index finger down the wet pink of Momoi's arousal, eliciting a shaky moan that Haizaki would give his eye teeth for. He thinks about sliding his fingers into Momoi's mouth but he wants to keep this as dirty as possible, so he bends over and spits directly on her exposed cunt.

Momoi lets out a squeal and involuntarily rocks forward, her body tensing as Haizaki's warm breath ghosts her skin. Haizaki laughs, the sound a low vibration in his chest. He slides his index and middle fingers over Momoi's folds, his touch light enough to draw another shiver down the curvature of her spine. Then, without further ado, he presses his fingers together and slides them into her tight, wanting heat in a single unit.

A plaintive cry breaks apart in the dark of Momoi's throat and she cants her hips to meet Haizaki's touch. She presses her forehead against the half-made bed and fists the top blanket until her knuckles turn white with strain. Haizaki brings his unoccupied hand down on Momoi's ass and delights in the shrill yelp that finds his ears.

“It's a good thing you have such a considerate little cunt. This is all the lube you're going to get.” Haizaki turns his wrist and crooks his fingers, his touch brushing against a wall of spongy tissue that makes Momoi whine in an amalgamation of pleasure and desperation. “I want you to feel every inch of me fucking you. I want you to feel how deep your pussy can take me. I want you to _feel_ me all through the night and into tomorrow because you're such a stupid little cockslut that you feel the need to beg for attention when you have it so good at home.”

“No, Daddy! I didn't forget. Please forgive me, Daddy,” Momoi pleads.

Haizaki pushes a third finger in alongside the first two, twisting and searching until Momoi's arousal is catching reflective on his skin and the room is rich with the wet slide of skin-on-skin friction. “We'll see how good you take my cock, kitten. If you're a good girl, then Daddy might forgive you.” Haizaki removes his fingers from Momoi's feverish warmth, smiling when a broken whine spills past her lips. He wastes no time and presses the tip of his cock against her entrance, hunger and desire facilitating the need to be inside of her.

Haizaki pushes half of his length into her body before he slams himself home. Momoi cries out in pleasure and twists the fabric in her grip as if the cold material can tether her to what's left of her mental acuity. Haizaki fucks into her roughly, pausing only long enough to drape himself over her back, fingers hooking beneath the collar surrounding her throat. He pushes his cock impossibly deep, the angle of his thrusts allowing Momoi to feel each inch of his stiff arousal and every roll of his hips as he fluidly bottoms out inside of her.

“You're so big, Daddy. You fill me up so good.”

Haizaki slides his fingers free of the cheap pink leather circling her throat and pushes her face down against the bed. “I didn't give you permission to speak, slut.” Haizaki fucks into her harder, every thrust like a direct injection into Momoi's bloodstream. His body is hot, slick with a fine sheen of sweat, and his breathing is coming in short pants. He knows that he isn't going to last much longer. Still, he allows Momoi to turn her head enough that she can press her cheek into the mattress, breathing short and unsteady.

“You're going to know what it means to be filled up, kitten. I'm going to fill you up with my come until it spills down your pretty thighs and sticks to your skin.”

Momoi whimpers and tears return to her cheeks as a broken mantra of _Daddy_ and _please_ plays on her lips like a dying prayer. Haizaki can feel the shift in his control, can feel himself slipping through the cracks in domspace so suddenly it makes his head spin. He shifts his hands to Momoi's hips and leans back, fucking faster, each thrust amplifying the staccato thrum of his heart.

“Touch your clit, baby, if it's what you need. You've been such a good girl. Come for me, kitten. Come on Daddy's cock.”

Momoi shakes her head and arches her back, toes curling against the edge of the bed as Haizaki's praise branches through her limbs like lightning. She cries out and Haizaki can feel her tighten around his cock as if she wants to hold him forever inside of her, her body trembling beneath his rough fingers as she comes apart. It's enough to trammel Haizaki's control, and he digs his nails into Momoi's hips as he capitulates to his body's demands.

They stay like that for a moment, trying to catch their breaths and taking in the pleasurable aftershocks of orgasm spiraling out across their skin. Then, Haizaki gently withdraws from the smooth walls of Momoi's heat, eliciting a quiet moan from the indulgence hanging on her lips.

It takes Haizaki several tries to free the twisted shirt binding her hands, his body overtaxed and his vision swamping at the corners. Once free, Momoi collapses on the bed and giggles, a bright smile on her lips that spreads to warmth behind her glassy eyes. She waves at the camera, weak and too fucked-out to form any real sense of coherency.

Haizaki makes his way over to the computer and flashes their audience a charming smile. He bids them a goodnight and a _see you next time_ before ending the show.

“Fuck,” he says, laughing. “That was one hell of a ride.”

Momoi emits a girlish snicker and reaches out toward Haizaki, wiggling her fingers in a come hither gesture. Haizaki joins her on the bed, and after they manage to tangle their limbs together in a way that doesn't promise future cramping or discomfort, Haizaki tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I love you, kitten,” he says softly. “You all right?”

Momoi's smile is delicate like the task of moving her facial muscles is suddenly too difficult to manage. Her eyes are heavy with fatigue and every grain of tension she held in her body previously has dissolved to bonelessness. “I'm fine. Thank you.” She reaches out to run her hand down Haizaki's sweat-damp cheek, her pinky finger glancing the cursive of her name on the skin just below the line of his jaw. “Kiss me?”

Haizaki slots their mouths together, and the kiss is soft and sweet but despite the calm, there's passion in every shift of his lips. He walks his fingertips up her side until he brushes over her rib cage and Momoi flinches away from the ticklish sensation.

“I love you, Daddy,” she says before burying her face in his shoulder.

“You know I need to clean you up,” Haizaki tells her in a gentle warning that underscores his desire to take care of her.

“Five minutes,” Momoi breathes, already slipping into the birth of a dream.

Haizaki wants to protest, to gently shake her awake, and carry her into the bathroom—despite his hard demeanor, the bruises on Momoi's hips, the bite marks on her thighs, and the temporary scratches on her skin, Haizaki believes in aftercare like he believes in the bitter fruits of anarchy. However, for as much as he luxuriates in his role as a dominant, he knows that Momoi has him wrapped tightly around her finger.

He looks at the clock on the bedside table and thinks: _I'll give you ten._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
